


undo my pain

by tumemxnques



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Feels, F/F, Hurt No Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22961650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tumemxnques/pseuds/tumemxnques
Summary: - "Get those off me,“ she hissed and backed away from the magic, so Wanda stopped it instantly. "I made tea,“ she mumbled so quietly Natasha had to concentrate to understand her. "Do you want some?“ -
Relationships: Wanda Maximoff/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 3
Kudos: 52





	undo my pain

**Author's Note:**

> i'm back with another scarletwidow fanfic that's been in my notes for ages now and i thought i would post it :) i'm sorry for any mistakes since it's pretty old and i didn't really proofread it but i hope you'll enjoy it anyway!
> 
> ! TRIGGER WARNINGS !  
> abuse  
> suicide
> 
> stay safe everyone!

**and in the limelight, i play it off fine**

**but i can't handle it when i turn off my night light**

**\- kesha**

Natasha gasped for air as she tried to sit up in her bed, but the next second handcuffs jerked her back forcefully and none of the oxygen felt like it actually reached her lungs. 

She struggled for agonizing long seconds before something in her throat gave in and she let out a strangled cry. Finally she could breathe again. 

She whispered to herself in Russian and grasped the headboard as she tried to calm her racing heartbeat. She fiddled with the key to the cuffs until she could open them with trembling hands. 

"Oh god,“ she sobbed as she looked at her bleeding wrists: the metal had cut deep into her skin - again. She hissed in pain when she got out of bed and grabbed the bandages from her bathroom. She always kept some there and they weren’t for mission injuries. 

The moment the material hit the wound she growled low in her throat and pulled the bandage tighter. Her head was spinning and she felt nauseous, being drenched in sweat all over. 

When she‘d thrown the left over bandages into the cupboard again she yanked the wet nightgown over her head and let it fall to the ground. Then she stared at herself in the mirror. 

Scars were scattered all over her light skin, scars that she found extremely ugly. "They‘re not ugly,“ she heard Steve‘s voice in her mind and closed her eyes. "I think they‘re beautiful. You‘re beautiful.“ If she concentrated, she was still able to feel his fingers ghost over them. 

Natasha inhaled quickly and closed the cupboard before she made her way into her bedroom again. 

Eventually she stood there and stared into nothingness, before an awful idea came to her mind. She almost crawled into her dresser before she pulled out her black pointe shoes. They‘d been a gift from Clint once, shortly after he had decided to save her and she‘d been dancing in them ever since. 

The first weeks she‘d needed them daily, trying to forget all the haunting memories by dancing until her feet bled. Thank god the shoes were black, otherwise they‘d be stained with dried blood by now. The black training dress she pulled out after the shoes had been a gift from Laura, Clint‘s wife, who‘d said that she couldn’t stand seeing Natasha dance in oversized shirts she‘d stolen from Clint. The woman had always been admiring Nat‘s dancing, said she thought it was graceful and elegant. 

Natasha knew it wasn‘t. It was sickening, anguished, frantic. All she did was hiding it behind false grace and elegance. With trembling fingers she put on the dress and snuck out of her bedroom to go to one of the training rooms. Tony had a great mirror and some bars installed in one because he knew Natasha desperately needed to dance sometimes. She turned on the lights and put the mats aside before she dropped to the ground and laced up the dancing shoes. 

The moment she had them on she straightened her feet and then got up. She didn‘t need music to dance, not tonight anyways. The cacophony in her mind was enough to go with, so she rose to her tiptoes and closed her eyes for a second until she rose further, stretched out one leg and then started to dance. 

"Sloppy,“ she heard Madame B. say and tried to jump higher. "Again.“ A man‘s voice this time, heavy with accent, and she flinched. And fell." "Pretending to fail.“ She opened her eyes wide and gasped. 

Then she felt the stinging pain of a whip on her back a moment before she heard the sharp noise that followed. She knew deep down that this wasn‘t real, but the memories certainly were. Before she could hear the second whip crack, she rose to her feet in one fluid motion, her knees and ankles cracking instead. 

"You‘re made of marble.“ She wasn‘t, she was made of glass, but nobody saw, nobody wanted to see. "The ceremony is necessary for you to take your place in the world.“ 

"I have no place in this world!“ she screamed into the room as she came to a stop. "I don‘t belong! And it‘s your fault! It‘s your fault that I became the monster I am today! You took the only thing from me that I had left!“ 

"We‘ll celebrate after the graduation ceremony.“ But after the ceremony, Natasha had never been in the mood to celebrate. All she wanted to do was die. She still did. Or more specifically, she wished she would’ve never been born in the first place. 

Gunshots rang through her mind and she flinched as she spun, then she spun faster. She could still hear them whimper, hear her friends scream in pain, smell the blood. She was able to feel all the weight of the people she‘d killed on her shoulders, these scarred, small shoulders. 

"Natalia,“ her own name shot through her head and she raised her left leg, suppressing a scream. "Don‘t worry, it‘ll be alright. It‘s necessary. You‘ll feel better afterwards.“ The sharp pain that ran through her abdomen then was too much. She broke down on the floor and sobbed uncontrollably. 

"Why?“ she cried out and buried her face in her hands. "Why did you make my life such a living hell?“ She trembled and cried for what felt like hours and she needed it. It had been months or even years since she‘d properly broken down and it felt relieving. 

Suddenly, a warm, red glow embraced her and she looked up. Through the tears she could see little Wanda Maximoff standing in the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself, two fingers sending off red tendrils, her brown hair a tangled mess of curls.

"Get those off me,“ she hissed and backed away from the magic, so Wanda stopped it instantly. "I made tea,“ she mumbled so quietly Natasha had to concentrate to understand her. "Do you want some?“ Natasha closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. She could use some tea right now. 

"Yeah, I guess,“ she whimpered and Wanda came over to her, before she took off her grey robe and put it over Natasha‘s trembling shoulders, gently rubbing over her arms. "It‘s going to be okay,“ she whispered and led Natasha out of the room. 

In the kitchen she helped her sit on the counter, took her ballet shoes off and pushed a cup of tea into her cold hands. She didn‘t let go at first, raising an eyebrow. "Your hands are so cold.“ Natasha shrugged. "They‘re always cold.“ Wanda smiled softly. "My heart is gold and my hands are cold.“ Hearing this, Nat was the one who raised an eyebrow.

"Did you just quote a Halsey song?“ Wanda bit her lip. "Yeah, whatever. Drink your tea and be happy.“ Natasha stared into the drink and Wanda mentally slapped herself. "Sorry, I didn‘t mean that. It‘s alright to not be happy. I‘m not either, I understand.“ Nat nodded and took a sip of tea. It was hot and tasted like peppermint, a flavor Natasha really liked. 

"Whatever it is, Romanoff, I hope it‘ll be okay,“ Wanda mumbled into her own cup and looked up at her through her thick eyelashes. Natasha shrugged and set the cup aside for a moment. "Natasha.“ 

Wanda looked confused. "What?“ Nat smiled sadly. "It‘s Natasha. I can‘t keep on hating and avoiding you forever. We‘re supposed to be teammates. I‘ll have to train you separately from Monday on. We‘ll have to try to move on, Wanda.“ 

Wanda shrugged. "I didn‘t hate you, never. You hated me, and I can totally understand that. I hate myself for it, too, every day. But I never hated you.“ She set her own cup aside as well and moved closer. "Quite the opposite, actually,“ she whispered, now standing between Natasha‘s spread legs that were dangling from the counter. 

Regarding the fact that Wanda was taller than Natasha, Nat was only minimally taller than the Maximoff girl now, even sitting on top of the counter. Natasha watched Wanda move impossibly closer in awe and felt paralyzed. "Wanda,“ she whispered. "Not now.“ 

Wanda‘s nose bumped into Natasha‘s really gently and their eyes fluttered close simultaneously. "I don‘t know if I can put this aside for much longer,“ Wanda begged and rested her forehead against the older woman‘s. 

"We can‘t, Wanda,“ Natasha mumbled. She brought a hand up to caress the girl‘s cheek and sighed. „I‘m way too old for you.“ But Wanda shook her head and let her hand wander to the back of Natasha‘s head to softly play with the curls at the nape of her neck. "No, no, please.“ 

"You‘re just a child, Wanda,“ she whispered as Wanda leaned closer and Nat’s chapped lips brushed over the softness of the other girl‘s mouth. "I‘m not,“ she protested, but the moment the words left her mouth she realized how stupid she sounded. "Maybe I am,“ she whispered, "but I can still make my own decisions.“ 

Natasha shook her head. "You‘re just a child with a crush, Wanda. We could go up to my room now, I‘d keep you awake the whole night, that‘s not the problem, but afterwards? The sweat will dry and you‘ll feel terrible. You‘ll regret it. You won‘t be able to look me into the eyes anymore. I don‘t want to be that kind of person to you.“ 

Wanda sighed and backed away. "Sorry,“ she whispered. Natasha let her hand drop from cheek to shoulder and smiled softly. "It‘s not you, it‘s me.“ Then she slipped from the counter and took her tea from next to her, her pointe shoes in the other hand. "Thanks for the tea, Maximoff.“ 

There it was again, the distance. 

"Try to get some sleep, Romanoff,“ came the quiet answer. Just before she could leave the room she heard a quiet "I love you" that stopped her. She closed her eyes and a violent memory filled her head. 

"It‘s okay, Talia, it‘s you. I‘d rather have you kill me than them.“ 

"It shouldn’t be so hard,“ she heard herself sob." "Do it, Natalia. I love you.“ 

She gasped for air as she started to walk towards her room, trying to shake the memory. She didn‘t want to think about him tonight, nor tomorrow, she just wanted to sleep. She didn‘t want to think about Wanda or Steve or Bruce or anyone else, so she sat on her bed and stared into nothingness until the tea became as cold as her hands and she set it aside to crawl under her silk sheets. 

She took the little syringe with the golden liquid in it from her bedside drawer and took off the cap, before she injected the content into her vein and laid down. 

Now she wouldn‘t need the handcuffs, she thought, because the medication would make her sleep like a baby. It always did. And maybe, she thought just as her eyes fell close and she drifted off into a dreamless sleep, maybe it could make her sleep forever. 

Just maybe.


End file.
